Private A Pattern Begins

[Meri Vale]

Nar Shaddaa never slept.

It only shifted—noise folding into noise, light bleeding into light—until the senses dulled from overload rather than rest. Meri stayed close to the solid, familiar presence beside her as they moved through the middle city, letting the press of bodies flow around them instead of through her. She focused on details that made sense: the rhythm of foot traffic, the pattern of illuminated signage, the weight of her notebook tucked securely under her arm.

Crowds were more manageable when she could observe rather than engage.

The stalls here were less chaotic than the lower levels, but no less strange. Half-repaired devices, antique-looking components, things that pretended to be history, and things that actually were. Meri slowed near one display without quite realizing it, her attention caught by an astrogation chip etched with markings that didn't match any modern cartographic standard she recognized.

Her fingers twitched, resisting the urge to touch.

She became aware of someone standing close—too close for comfort—before any sound reached her. Meri stiffened, shoulders drawing in slightly as she turned just enough to acknowledge the presence without fully facing it.

She listened, not to words at first, but to intent. To the way the attention felt directed, focused not on her but on the notebook she carried, on the way she had paused instead of passing by. Her grip tightened unconsciously.

"I'm just looking," Meri said quietly, the words automatic, defensive, without being hostile. The response she received confirmed what she had already suspected: this wasn't a chance encounter. Her pulse ticked up, but her mind stayed calm. That usually meant something mattered.

A request followed. Transport. Protection. A place missing from the charts. An artifact older than the records that pretended to define the galaxy now. Each piece fit together too neatly to be a coincidence, and yet none of it felt exaggerated. If anything, it felt restrained—carefully presented.

She hated that part of herself that leaned in at the mention of lost worlds.

Meri lowered her gaze for a moment, grounding herself, then looked back up. "Why me?" she asked, softly but clearly. The answer—nonverbal, implied, tied to her earlier hesitation and what she had noticed without realizing—settled in her chest with quiet weight. She exhaled slowly.

Nar Shaddaa's noise pressed in again: passing speeders, distant sirens, voices rising and falling without meaning. The city didn't care what she decided. It never did. Meri adjusted the notebook under her arm, fingers resting along its worn spine. "I don't make decisions quickly," she said after a moment. "And I don't take jobs I don't understand."

She paused, eyes flicking briefly to the space beside her, then back again. "But I will listen." It wasn't an agreement. Not yet. But it was enough to keep her standing there, instead of disappearing back into the crowd.

RedSword77

 

[RedSword77]

The city had changed in the last twenty-five to fifty years. Being in hibernation mode, the droid had missed a lot. RED-1 stayed close to Meri, a familiar presence being beside her, as they moved through the middle city, letting the press of bodies flow around the large droid instead of colliding with them. RED focused on what still made sense, the rhythm of foot traffic and the pattern of illuminated signs lining the walkways. Crowds were easier to manage while the droid was moving; people instinctively stepped aside.
The stalls here were less chaotic than those in the lower levels, though no less strange. Bizarre devices sat beside antique-looking components. Some feigning history, others genuinely old. RED-1 slowed near one display without quite realizing it, attention drawn to Meri as she studied an astrogation chip etched with markings that matched none of the modern cartographic standards.
RED watched as a male Twi'lek began speaking to her. As per standard protocol for RED, it began to watch for signs of deceit from the Twi'lek. There was none as they talked. They were on R&R for a time, and RED was looking forward to it, then things started to turn as Meri spoke to the male Twi'lek. GuffinMac was the name of a male historian of some sort. As they talked, RED just kept watching the area.
GuffinMac tilted his head a little, looking at RED-1. "Interesting droid you have." He stated with a smile. This chip contains map data, but some of the astrogation charts are missing, so the map is incomplete," said GuffinMac. "My sources and study say there is an ancient artifact on the planet. I don't know how long it is from Nar Shaddaa to the mystery planet," he explained. "Can you get this chip working and fill in the blanks?" GuffinMac asked, looking at the chip.
RED spoke up. "Master Meri, the astrogation charts are centuries old, I do have some charts I can add that I have stored. it might give you what you need Master Meri if you would like," added RED in his calm and professional voice.


Meri Vale

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri listened without interrupting, her attention fixed on the chip resting between them rather than on the faces around her. Nar Shaddaa's noise pressed in from every direction, but this—this was familiar. Incomplete data. Gaps that meant something.

She took the chip carefully, turning it just enough for the etched markings to catch the light. Her brow furrowed, not in confusion, but in concentration.

"It isn't broken," she said quietly. "It's…selective."

Her thumb hovered over one section, never quite touching. "These omissions aren't random. Whoever made this didn't erase the route—they obscured it. Like leaving landmarks but removing the paths between them."

She paused, then nodded slightly, as if confirming something to herself.

"If you fill the gaps directly, it won't work," Meri continued. "The original data was probably designed to resist straightforward reconstruction. But if you layer compatible charts—older ones, from before standard hyperspace lanes were enforced—you can sometimes infer what's missing by what still aligns."

At RED-1's offer, she looked up at him, relief flickering across her expression. "That would help," she said softly. "A lot."

Her gaze returned to the chip.

"I can try to reconcile the patterns," Meri added. "But it will take time. And…we shouldn't do it here." She glanced around the crowded walkway, instinctively drawing the chip closer to her. "Places like this notice when something stops being ordinary."

RedSword77